


𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

by shyestbanshee



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Dark, Descent into Madness, Dom/sub Undertones, Downward Spiral, F/M, Femdom, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Memories, Mild Sexual Content, Not Beta Read, Opposites Attract, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Regret, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Scratching, Sexual Tension, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24422419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyestbanshee/pseuds/shyestbanshee
Summary: “[...] Octavia's kiss tastes of blood, of everything she does just to see it shed, to see it dripping from her sword, while Jasper spends his days trying to avoid it in every way possible, trying not to think about it. [...]”
Relationships: Jactavia, Octavia Blake/Jasper Jordan
Kudos: 10





	𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is me trying to translate my Jactavia Drabbles & One-Shots in English, which is not my first language. So, please don’t be too harsh on me and feel free to tell me if you find any grammatical error.  
> Thank you for your patience and enjoy this mess!

Octavia's lips have the flavor of the past, of those days when everything was easier, and what was right and wrong had a practically intangible margin of difference.

Octavia's kiss tastes of blood, of everything she does just to see it shed, to see it dripping from her sword, while Jasper spends his days trying to avoid it in every way possible, trying not to think about it. He is destroyed by war, she seems unable to live without it. Even in that moment, he can somehow feel the blood of the victims of her, of _Skairipa_ , on her skin — _her_ _so deliciously warm skin_ —, which he finds himself kissing without knowing why.

Octavia's embrace is possessive and almost angry.  _You are mine_ , she seems to scream, as she sinks her nails into his shoulders.  _You are mine_ , she reiterates, when her hands stop on the belt buckle.  _You are mine alone_ , it almost seems like she shouts again, and suddenly he finds himself crushed against the stone wall, and she is kneeling between his legs.

Octavia's mouth closes around his sex and begins to lick it with pleasure first, and then she starts sucking it roughly. Jasper can feel her canines barely touching his skin, and another shiver joins those that the caresses of his tongue are already causing him.

For a moment it is as if he still feels his fifteen years — _actual_ fifteen years, before setting foot in Mount Weather, when he didn't really give a shit about the world, and all he desperately needed was to win the love of the beautiful and unreachable Octavia Blake — as if everything that happened in the last few months no longer mattered — _not even Lincoln, not even Maya_ — and they were still the two of them, with their contrasted, complex, almost forbidden love, much like the kind of love you find written in the books he sometimes used to read about back in the Ark.

Jasper's orgasm tastes of regrets, of things that could have been but never have been, and of the total inability to decide if that was _really_ the best thing.


End file.
